


Sherlock Super Soldier

by jd20whovian



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Reichenbach Falls, Super Soldier Serum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 22:15:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1874436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jd20whovian/pseuds/jd20whovian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On that fateful day when Sherlock was 12, he was approached by government officers. Can what happened that day help him survive the fall?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock Super Soldier

"Hey. You." Sherlock turned around to see a few government officials behind him.

"Yes? He looked at them coldly, his 12-year-old self already very antisocial and not trusting. They guy at the front of the triangle,  _an oblique triangle_ , thought Sherlock, held up a badge.

"My name is Agent Phillip Coulson, and we've been watching you the past few weeks, and-"

"Wait, what? You've been 'watching me'?" Sherlock does air quotes with his fingers. "You're admitting that you stalk me. Wow, not a creeper at all."

"Will you just listen? William, we've been watching you for a specific reason. We're injecting people with little bits of super-soldier serum to see how they react. We were observing you to see if you would fit the program and we think you will. So, we've talked to your parents and they've agreed. So, if you'll come with us, we;ll perform the injection, then study you for your reaction for a few days, and then you can come home."

"But what about Mycroft?"

"Who?"

"My _brother_." Although he didn't show it, he secretly adored his big brother. "He's coming home from boarding school tomorrow and he'll get suspicious if I'm not home."

Coulson looked at this companions, and they nodded. "Well, William-"

"Sherlock," he interjected.

Coulson rolled his eyes. "Okay, well,  _Sherlock_ -"

"Thank you," muttered Sherlock.

"-He's going to be told the truth, but forbidden to tell anyone else. The story others are going to be told is that you're going to visit family in Scotland. Not too close, but not too far away either."

Sherlock shrugged. "Well, why shouldn't I?"

* * *

 

Sherlock was led into a secret lab, under something called the Triskelion. Guards shoved him into a chair, fairly roughly, and then strapped him down.

"Why do you need to strap me down? I don't thrash."

The guards looked at each other and chuckled. "Yeah, this time you will."

Suddenly Sherlock wasn't so confident about what he was facing. They secured the straps and left the room. Another man, slightly older than the guards, in his mid-30s, walked in. He looked to be some kind of scientist.

"Hi, I'm Howard Stark. I'll be injecting you with the serum today. I'll stick the serum in you, then I'll close the capsule around you. I'll twist a few dials, and just scream bloody murder if the pain becomes unbearable." He laughed at his little joke, then jabbed a few needles into Sherlock. He pushed a button, and the capsule closed around Sherlock. He sat calmly and her a few dials clicking outside the capsule. A white light started glowing around him, and he started to feel some pain. The pain intensified until the light just shut off. The pain decreased and the capsule opened. Everything was blurry and his ears were buzzing. He felt the straps loosed and he fell out.

"Oh God, of God, did I him? please let me not have killed him, God." The speaker grabbed Sherlock by his arms and led him to a chair. He regained his sight and his hearing, and noticed something different. No longer was he the scrawny boy everybody picked on because of his glasses. He was taller, more muscular, and, as he looked around, he realized his eyesight had gotten better, so much that he didn't need glasses. He stood up, walked around a bit, and ended up in front of Stark.

"Well? how do you feel?" He held a notepad up, ready to take notes.

"Fine," Sherlock added, distracted. He could now read Stark like a book. He knew he had a wife named Maria, who was eight months pregnant.

"Any difference? Do you need your glasses back?"

"I don't. Also, i can tell you the results already. There's no need to study me for a few days."

"What? Why is that?" Howard looked incredulous.

"This serum only affected my body as to make it stronger. It affects the greatest asset of the person it was injected into.  For me, that appears to be my brain. For instance, I can tell you have a wife, been married for five years, and she's eight months pregnant and you're worried she might do into labor. Stand by the phone, you worry is going to come true. Also, you are 33, your birthday is August 3rd, and you're worried about your weight, but you really shouldn't be. I think we're done here. He grabbed his coat and walked to the elevator. "have a nice day, and don't forget to be near a phone at all times today." He mock-saluted, then stepped into the elevator, the doors closing behind him.

* * *

* * *

 

Twenty-five years later, Sherlock stands atop a four story building. His archnemesis lays dead behind him in a pool of blood, having put a bullet into his own brain. Snipers sit with their guns trained at his three closest friends, and the only way to stop them is to throw himself off the building.

"Goodbye, John," he says into his phone, then tosses it behind him. He puts his hand into his pocket to make sure his rubber ball is still in there, sniffs. and throws himself off.

As he falls, he hopes and trusts that the serum that made his brain so great all those years ago made his muscles stronger as well.

Four stores go by pretty fast and before he knows it, he slams into the ground. he does a quick check over, and, seeing he's all right, he grabs the rubber ball and sticks it in his armpit, knowing that if you squeeze hard enough, your pulse goes away for a few minutes.

His homeless network crowds around, one of two pouring fake blood on him to make it look like he bled more than he did.

As he lays there, he thinks back on that fateful day when his twelve-year-old self said yes to the serum.


End file.
